CHAPTER 40: MY FIVE-STAR DATE WAS A TEN-DOLLAR BOWL OF NOODLES

Natalia stood outside The Crimson Lantern, its opulent façade gleaming with gold trim against deep crimson walls. The restaurant’s reputation preceded it—the most exclusive dining establishment in New Vein City, where only S-Rank Hunters and the elite of society dined.

A nervous tremor ran through her fingers. She’d always imagined walking through these doors after her first A-Rank promotion, not as someone’s guest.

"This is..."

Satori stood beside her, watching her face with that unnervingly perceptive gaze of his.

"You’re not ready for this place, are you?"

"It’s where my father brings his colleagues to celebrate after successful A-Rank missions," she admitted, her voice softer than intended. "I always thought I’d come here after I made A-Rank. When I’d earned it." Natalia looked down at the immaculate sidewalk, ashamed of her vulnerability. "This feels like cheating somehow."

Satori’s eyes softened, the predatory glint momentarily replaced by something she couldn’t quite identify. He took her hand, his warm fingers wrapping around hers with unexpected gentleness. "Come on. I know a better place."

Natalia allowed herself to be led away from the glittering main street, past designer boutiques and high-end tech shops. They turned down a side alley where paper lanterns cast a soft, warm light. The city’s gleaming heart faded behind them, and with it, the rigid tension in her shoulders. She could breathe here. The air, thick with the scent of street food instead of sterile perfume, was an unexpected relief.

"Where are we going?" she asked, suddenly aware she was still holding his hand, feeling the rough calluses that had developed over months of his training regime.

"Somewhere authentic."

They stopped before a tiny shop with a simple wooden façade weathered by years of steam and city air. A noren curtain hung in the doorway, the kanji for "Noodles" hand-painted across it in elegant, faded strokes. The rich, savory aroma of bone broth and grilled pork wafted out, making Natalia’s mouth water unexpectedly. The scent triggered something primal, bypassing all her cultivated tastes for nouvelle cuisine and imported delicacies.

"A ramen shop?" she asked, unable to keep the surprise from her voice.

"The best in New Vein." Satori pushed aside the curtain, the confident movement speaking of familiarity. "After you, Princess."

The interior was a cloud of warm steam. Eight seats lined a wooden counter worn smooth by countless elbows. Three tiny booths were tucked against the back wall. Behind the counter, a grizzled old man with skin like worn leather nodded at Satori as if they were old friends.

"Nakano-san," the man greeted him, then turned his gaze to Natalia. His weathered face crinkled into a smile that transformed his severe features. "Ah, you brought a beautiful companion tonight."

Natalia felt herself blush, the compliment somehow more genuine coming from this stranger than from any of her usual admirers. The old man gestured to the farthest booth in the corner, partially hidden by a bamboo screen decorated with faded paintings of mountains and rivers.

"Your usual spot is open."

Satori thanked him with a small bow and guided Natalia to the booth with a light touch at the small of her back that sent an unexpected shiver up her spine. The booth was an intimate cage of dark, polished wood. The bamboo screen offered the barest illusion of privacy. The table was so small they had to sit side by side, their thighs pressed together from knee to hip.

"You come here often enough to have a usual spot?" she asked, trying to distract herself from the heat of his body against hers, a heat that seemed to burn through the fabric of her skirt.

"Found it my second week working out," Satori replied, his voice a low rumble in the confined space that she could almost feel vibrating through her. "It reminds me of... home."

She caught something in his tone—a flicker of genuine emotion she rarely heard from him, a momentary glimpse behind the mask he wore so effortlessly.

Satori ordered for them in fluent, respectful Japanese. The words flowed from him naturally, another layer to him she had never suspected. He ordered her a rich tonkotsu ramen with extra chashu pork, remembering offhandedly that she preferred pork to chicken. He added a small flask of warm sake to the order, the ceramic bottle glinting in the low light.

"To celebrate," he explained when she raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued.

"Celebrate what?"

"Us."

Natalia shifted uncomfortably, the booth suddenly feeling even smaller, the air between them charged with unspoken tension. Her purse slipped from her lap, its contents spilling onto the floor with a soft clatter.

"Oh! Sorry, I—" Before she could bend down, Satori was already leaning forward, disappearing under the table.

The world shrank to the space beneath the wooden surface. She could feel the heat radiating from his back, hear the soft rustle of his clothes as he moved in the confined space. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm that made her light-headed, each beat pulsing in her throat.

His hand closed over her fallen lip balm. For a heartbeat, she thought that was it. He would pull back, the moment would pass. Then his fingers shifted with deliberate slowness. They brushed the bare skin of her ankle.

She froze, her body suddenly hyper-aware of every sensation—the rough texture of the wooden bench beneath her thighs, the damp heat of the steam-filled restaurant clinging to her skin, the weight of Satori’s body pressed against hers.

"Hic!"

His hand didn’t retreat. Instead, it began a slow, deliberate ascent up her leg. His callused fingertips traced a burning path up her calf. He lingered over each inch of skin until he found the sensitive hollow behind her knee. His touch there sent a spark through her nerves, igniting a pleasure so sharp and unexpected it stole her breath.

Run.

The command screamed through her mind, but her muscles refused to obey. A heavy warmth pooled low in her stomach, rooting her to the wooden bench.

"Nnh..."